Change
by DayStar-chan
Summary: It was the way of life, though, wasn't it? Something always changing? Things changed. Even people changed sometimes. [Oneshot]


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Digimon, the concept, or its characters. They belong to Bandai, Toei Animation, Saban... maybe others as well. I'm merely using them for my own personal enjoyment. Please don't sue.

**Notes:** Another one I've kept hidden for a few months, wondering whether or not I should post it. Hopefully you guys don't find it too terrible. It's based on a prompt from a generator, and I liked the idea that came from it.

Set along the epilogue time line – not necessarily in the year 2027, but somewhere close.

Also, I'm taking drabble requests because my inspiration has not been cooperating much lately, and I'm hoping that at least ONE idea from somewhere will spark something. So! Leave a review or send me a PM/e-mail with a character/friendship/pairing and some sort of prompt/scenario, and I'll see what I can do for you. 8D

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**Change****  
**By: Daystar-chan

It was the way of life, though, wasn't it? Something always changing? Things changed. Even people changed sometimes. (Michi)  
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It was gone.

Not _all _the way, but almost.

For him, this was where everything had started. From the moment the first snowflake fell onto his face during an afternoon nap at summer camp - that had been the beginning of his Digital World adventures (because snow falling in August just wasn't normal).

It made him smile. But on the inside, for some reason, it hurt.

The only thing left of _his_ beginning was a meager little tree stump, old and rotting.

Sora had told him that they'd cut it down last year. She'd seen it when they'd come for the anniversary gathering then. He and Mimi hadn't been able to make it; their son had come down sick with a cold, and neither parent was willing to drag little Hitoshi out in case it got worse. But she'd told him, and he knew he had to see for himself, and soon, because he wasn't going to believe it otherwise.

Now he had no reason not to.

Kneeling down, he let his hand run over the top, flinching once or twice when he ran across a splinter of wood along the side. The tree had been here most of his childhood; he'd gone to summer camp for three years before the Digital World and one more year afterwards, and he'd been visiting the place on and off since then. He didn't know why he expected it to look the exact same every time he came, but the fact that it didn't was discouraging.

It was the way of life, though, wasn't it? Something always changing? Things changed. Like time and their Digimon when they evolved. Like the scenery surrounding the camp grounds.

Even people changed sometimes...

"Taichi?"

His wife's voice broke the silence suddenly, and he turned, startled. She was standing right behind him, her eyes darting back and forth between him and the tree stump. He could hear the sound of crunching leaves and his son's low laugh behind her. How had they managed to get so close without him hearing?

Had he really been that out of it?

"I'm fine, Mimi," he mumbled, and he wasn't surprised to find that, really, he was. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was that he rarely dwelled on anything anymore, good or bad. It was a lot easier to avoid pain if you just let it come and go.

"Are you sure?"

He smiled in response, nodding, and he pulled his hand away from the tree trunk without hesitation. As he stood, his son wandered over to them, apparently bored with killing innocent leaves, and he glanced upward at Taichi's face.

"Hey, Dad? When do _I_ get to go to summer camp?"

Taichi snorted, grinning at the innocent smile his son was now sporting. "You, interested in _summer_ camp? When did this happen?"

"_Well_," he stressed, shrugging and trying to look uninterested in what he was telling them, "Shoji and Teruko are both going this year, and Aunt Hikari said she might even be sending Yuichi. It would be nice to spend the summer with them for once."

Even Mimi caught the hopeful, hinting tone in their son's last sentence. Taichi shook his head, still grinning, as he looked to his wife.

"I don't know... think we should let him, Mimi? I mean, he's the same age as Shoji, after all, and Yamato's usually pretty overprotective of him."

"After that last grade he got in math?," she questioned, eying her son's pouting face with a smile. "I don't know, Taichi. It wasn't really _that_ good, and summer camp seems like a reward for him..."

"_Mom_!"

Both adults laughed; Hitoshi flailed, trying to look angry at them, but even he couldn't hide a grin. They usually taunted him like that before agreeing to things. So that meant --

"Can I go then?"

"Eh, sure, why not," Taichi said, ruffling his son's hair. Hitoshi swatted his hand away gently, muttering a small thanks to them both.

They stood in silence for a moment. His son looked bored and ready to leave, and if Mimi was over here, it meant she was ready to go as well. But he wasn't. Not _just_ yet. And he told her that, hoping she wouldn't get mad.

And she didn't. Instead, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him they'd wait for him in the car, but if he wasn't there in less than five minutes they were leaving without him. He watched them walk away, side-by-side and holding hands, with a smile.

Change _was_ a part of life, that much he couldn't deny. And he wasn't much different than the tree – not really. Over the years, he had changed, too.

Matured - a little.

Married – happily, with no regrets.

Had a child – the pride and joy of his life.

He'd even been cutting his hair shorter lately.

And yet, underneath all that, he was still _Taichi_. Nothing could change that. Just like this was still camp - a little different, with one less tree and having gone through years of putting up with children running all over it, but still _camp.  
_  
With a final glance over his shoulder, his hand giving a small wave of goodbye to the lump of brown wood now behind him, he turned and began walking after his family.

He could live with change. Because change brought memories, and most of the time, those memories made up the happiest points in his life.


End file.
